


Unstoppable/Immovable

by lotherington



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, M/M, Magical Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 19:05:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotherington/pseuds/lotherington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For <a href="http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/21697.html?thread=126442177#t126442177">this prompt</a> on the kink meme: Sherlock is an an unstoppable force. John is an immovable object. They collide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unstoppable/Immovable

The collision occurred once upon a Friday, on an ordinary day in an extraordinary town. Unstoppable force, Sherlock Holmes, met immovable object, John Watson, and nothing appeared to happen at all.

This in and of itself was strange, to say the least. They met and moved in and caught a murderer and the world didn’t split in two, and time didn’t slow down, and space didn’t expand in order to pull them apart again. Nothing really happened. Life and London went on. All was well.

***

Unstoppable force, Sherlock Holmes, and immovable object, John Watson, enjoyed each other’s company.

‘John,’ said Sherlock.

‘I’m here,’ said John.

‘I need you,’ said Sherlock.

‘I’m here,’ said John.

‘Don’t ever leave,’ said Sherlock.

‘I’m here,’ said John.

***

Sherlock Holmes, unstoppable force, was a wonder. He was endless energy and éclat, dancing across London to his own tune entirely, lord and master of all he surveyed. He shone brightly, brilliantly, the brightest jewel of all of them.

John Watson, immovable object, was a constant. He was eternal, adj., without pause; endless. He remained. He remained. ‘I’m here,’ said John. ‘I’m here.’

***

They first kissed late one night in May, having returned from a crime scene in Clapham. The sky did not crack and the world did not split in two. 

‘You’re terrible at that,’ John said.

‘I know,’ Sherlock said.

Pink-tinged dawn was still a long way off as they stood on their front doorstep and laughed and laughed and laughed.

***

‘Stay,’ Sherlock Holmes, unstoppable force, murmured in bed later that same night. He ran his fingertips along John’s arm, electric and alive and wonderful.

John Watson, immovable object, pressed his lips to Sherlock’s forehead, his eyelids, the tip of his snub nose. A pigeon landed on the windowsill with a soft thwock-thwock-thwock of its wings. ‘I’m here,’ said John. ‘Till time ends, I’m here.’


End file.
